


Through

by kuonji



Series: Beginnings And Endings [3]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 01:59:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuonji/pseuds/kuonji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First of the Through and Over arc.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Hutch's whole body burned with anger, embarrassment, and a kind of desperation he'd never felt at the worst of times on the job. Overwhelmed, he pulled out the one threat he thought he could count on right now...</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Through

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative Links:  
> <http://starskyhutch911.livejournal.com/245519.html>  
> <http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/29675.html>

"Sir."

Hutch nodded in thanks to the waiter, taking the proffered replacement for his chardonnay, as well as the apple martini.

It was five o' clock and the band was still going strong. The lantern lights strung overhead would click on once dusk fell. There was supposed to be a comedian later on. His father had gone all out for the company's 100th anniversary.

Hutch didn't often admit it, but he'd missed this -- fancy waiters, spotless white tablecloths, women in classy strapped sundresses and hats, men in shiny tuxedos. Everything breathed of ease and luxury.

"--but we've got to keep the city safe, you know? A few knocks here and there don't count for nothin'."

Hutch rolled his eyes and bumped Starsky's elbow. "Does the tough, scarred hero want his fruity beverage now?"

"Oh, thanks!" Starsky took the martini with his usual complete lack of chagrin. "These are fantastic," he commented to the pair of sisters he'd been regaling with gritty cop stories, in a purposely roughened accent. They giggled and gave him flirty looks.

Suddenly, an older woman Hutch recognized as his aunt's best friend and also the girls' mother swooped in, making shooing motions. "There you are, dears. Come, come. Your father wants you to meet someone." She smiled at Hutch. "Sorry, Kenny. Duty calls."

Hutch controlled his wince. "Give Mr. Thomas my best," he answered and waved as the trio of women left in the direction of the gazebo. The two sisters turned to make pouty, apologetic faces, which both he and Starsky readily returned.

"What was that look for?" Starsky asked, once they were out of earshot.

There was no hiding anything from his partner. Hutch smiled ruefully. "An entire generation of people here call me by a six-year-old's name. I can't get used to it."

"Are you kiddin'? Oh, Daaavey, have you had your vitamin A today?" Starsky said in a falsetto. "Remember to buy new underwear, Davey." Hutch laughed at Starsky's impression of his mother. Starsky mock-shuddered, even as he grinned. "Every week. That's family. What can you do?" Starsky handed his glass to Hutch. "I gotta take a leak."

"In through those doors, down the hallway, make a left, second door on the right." Hutch enjoyed Starsky's bewildered expression. He'd find out once he got to the clubhouse that there were signs.

Hutch watched Starsky go, admiring the way his charcoal black tuxedo fit on him, as well as the easy way he strode across the grounds. A young couple they'd met earlier stopped Starsky to converse briefly with him. His eyes danced with good humor, and the man patted Starsky on the back as his wife leaned forward to say something.

It made Hutch feel proud.

Starsky had jumped on the invitation to come with him and visit Duluth. Hutch had wondered at first if his vivacious friend might be bored at the party -- or worse, looked down on by the gentile neighborhood.

He needn't have worried. Starsky was comfortable anywhere. His charm had won over everyone within the hour. Hutch had lost track of the number of people -- especially of the female variety -- who found opportunities to chat up the homicide detective from California.

"Ken?"

Hutch turned. A tall man with silvered hair and deep wrinkles around the eyes smiled affectionately at him.

Hutch formed a polite answering smile, trying to place the seemingly familiar face. A board member's brother, maybe? A cousin's father-in-law?

"Look at you, all grown up!" The man gathered Hutch into his arms with an astonishing familiarity. He laid a kiss on Hutch's cheek --

\-- and the world froze around them.

The shock of recognition took Hutch by surprise. It was chased swiftly by disbelief. Then both were all but drowned out by a clutch of frantic anxiety.

Hands immobilized by the drinks he held, Hutch took a quick step backwards to break the embrace, so that he could search the direction Starsky had gone. He breathed an inward sigh of relief when he saw no sign of his partner.

Only then did he turn his attention back to the man in question.

Howie had aged reasonably well. Shoulders gone a little hunched, frame bonier than Hutch remembered, a bit of a paunch, definitely less hair. But he had the same thick, expressive eyebrows, and the same easy, almost condescendingly confident smile that Hutch had used to admire.

"Aw, Kenny, it's so good to see you." He cupped Hutch's cheek, and Hutch was startled to find himself turning in toward that barely remembered touch. The fingers felt thinner, the hand perhaps a touch smaller, but the scent of his skin was the same. Hutch jerked away.

"What--" He had to close his eyes for a second to settle himself. "What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

The man tsked. "Language!"

That sparked a welcome flash of irritation. "You can't tell me what to do anymore."

"That's right. I heard you'd become a big bad police officer. What a surprise! You were such a sweet, soft-hearted kid."

Hutch unclenched his teeth with an effort. It was a wasted one, however, as he could think of nothing to say. The old gentleman had no such awkwardness.

"One of those for me, or do you have two gullets?" he quipped, gesturing at the drinks.

With some idea of occupying the man's hands, Hutch shoved his own drink at him. He took an ungraceful gulp of Starsky's, himself. "I didn't expect to ever see you again," was the best he could come up with. Other words crowded his throat, unable to escape. He was acutely aware of the party sounds still surrounding them.

"Life's that way. We had some good times, didn't we?" He raised a hand again, and this time Hutch flinched away. He finally found his voice.

"Don't come near me again." He bit off each word.

The man evinced surprise. Then he smiled, looking conspiratory. "I knew it. Jealous boyfriend?" He nodded to the side, and Hutch was horrified to see Starsky coming back toward them. "All right. I know when I'm not wanted. Enjoy the party, Kenny." His departure was accomplished with no more fanfare than his arrival.

Starsky was chuckling as he returned. "You really hate that, huh?" he said, teasing. He took his martini back, glancing only absently at Hutch's other, drinkless, hand.

Hutch had to pause before understanding what Starsky meant. "Yeah," he managed to answer, realizing that Starsky had apparently arrived only in time to catch the last fragment. "I wish they'd stop," he added, consciously trying to recapture his own tone of affronted dignity from earlier.

Starsky frowned, his drink halfway to his lips. "What's the matter?"

His partner was too observant by half. "What?"

"You look kind of..." Starsky's expression turned puzzled. "Like somebody told you your bank burned down." He scowled. "That guy one of your dad's buddies?" Hutch hmmed a yes, thinking it as good an answer as any.

He realized he hadn't the slightest clue who Howie was nor what he did. Had he used to work for Hutch's father? Was he a client? Had he become a close neighbor since Hutch left Duluth? All that time, and it'd never occurred to his younger self to wonder or ask about the most mundane things. It was a sobering thought.

Starsky was still frowning. "He didn't go after you, did he?"

"Of course not! He's got to be pushing seventy by now--" Hutch exclaimed, at the same time as Starsky continued, "Just because you're not a fancy lawyer or doctor or--"

They both stopped awkwardly.

Starsky stared at him, and it was just like on the streets. Hutch didn't know how his partner did it. He watched as Starsky added up one and a quarter and two sixteenths and an eighth and a half and guessed _two_ without any hesitation whatsoever.

He gripped Hutch's arm. "That was _him_ , wasn't it?"

Hutch shook him off, for the first time in his life scared by the intensity of Starsky's gaze. "What are you talking about?"

Starsky didn't answer. His eyes got colder and colder. Without warning, he pivoted to the side and hurled his glass away. Hutch watched, dumbfounded, as it spun through the air, the liquid inside splashing out in a green-gold arc. It bounced off of a nearby chair -- not smashing, not even cracked -- and rolled across the grass.

Before it'd come to a stop, Starsky had taken off, his entire body wired in a way that Hutch had seen a thousand times before -- while sprinting off in pursuit of a suspect.

"Starsk!" he yelled. He lunged forward after his partner and grabbed him, dragging him to a rough stop. "Don't you dare," he hissed, keeping his voice low. A quick glance round showed only a group of men playing a tipsy game of bridge in their immediate vicinity.

Starsky wrested free of his grip and stared incredulously. "You think I'm going to sit here while that scum just walks away?" he demanded, stabbing one finger out.

One of the bridge-players gave them a curious glance.

Hutch grabbed Starsky's arm and yanked it back down. "We're at my father's party with all his family and business relations, for god's sake. Have a little restraint."

"Re _straint_?"

The four men were all watching them now. Hutch could feel his neck going hot beneath his collar and tie. "Will you keep it down?"

"Is that all you care about, making a scene? What the hell's wrong with you?"

"With me? You're the one overreacting."

"I'll show you _overreacting_."

Hutch's whole body burned with anger, embarrassment, and a kind of desperation he'd never felt at the worst of times on the job. Overwhelmed, he pulled out the one threat he thought he could count on right now: "Starsky, I swear, if you go after him, you and I are through. Do you hear me?"

Starsky froze. "Whaddya mean, we're--"

"Do you hear me?" he repeated, giving Starsky's arm a shake for emphasis. He waited for Starsky's response, unsure what he would actually do if Starsky ignored him.

Starsky broke away with an impatient sound.

Hutch caught his elbow. "I meant it," he warned.

Starsky's glare turned uncertain. After a long moment, he nodded stiffly. Hutch let go, still wary, and watched him stalk away in the direction of the parking lot.

Hutch blew out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. His knees were literally weak, and cold shivered through him. He felt like he'd just swum the English Channel.

Hastily, he hunted down his mother, making his apologies for leaving early. He kissed her quickly over her protests, promising to see them back at the house, and made his way to the car at a quick walk.

He was relieved to see Starsky waiting for him, leaning against their rented Ford Mustang. He lifted his head and watched Hutch, his lips tight. Once Hutch got close, he straightened and yanked open the driver's side door.

"I'll drive," Hutch said shortly. He wasn't sure why he'd said that. Starsky knew the way home, and he enjoyed handling the car whereas Hutch didn't care one way or the other.

Starsky threw him the keys without a word and went around to the other side.

They both got in, and Hutch didn't even bother starting the engine, just stared out the windshield for several minutes. He could sense Starsky doing the same beside him. The windows would start to fog up in a while, but he didn't want to open them in case their argument carried.

And there would be an argument.

It was Starsky who broke the silence:

"Why?"

Hutch's answer was swift: "It'd be assault of a senior citizen, you idiot, and with you from out of state. I'm not spending my vacation babysitting you in a jail cell."

"He wouldn't have the balls to charge me," Starsky scoffed. "Statutory rape is a misdemeanor at least. It'd sure give all his neighbors a shock if he was sent to jail."

Hutch could _hit_ him.

"Newsflash, bozo. Statute of limitations ran out long ago." Which wasn't even the goddamn point. "And what makes you think it'd stick anyway? It's his word against mine, and I'd sure as hell never testify."

"What?"

Hutch finally turned to look him in the eye, furious at the surprise in Starsky's voice, furious that Starsky was making him say this out loud. "You think I want to go up there and tell the judge how many times we fucked, and how I said yes every single time?"

"You were _thirteen_. That's the point! You were too young to say yes."

"I was old enough to enjoy it!"

Hutch turned away, not wanting to see Starsky's reaction.

They'd talked for a long time that day, but they hadn't said very many words, all in all. They hadn't needed to. Starsky had so readily accepted his jumbled recollections and half-formed explanations. He'd been willfully cotton-wrapped, he realized, in Starsky's blanket, unquestioning support.

Starsky still didn't know the details. Hutch had never given him the chance. Hadn't ever told him how good it'd felt when Howie had touched him, awakening his body. How he'd used to masturbate at night, thinking about it, how he'd get half-hard on the way to Howie's house, buzzing with eagerness.

He recalled now how Howie's hand on his face, just that promise of what they were about to do together, had once taken his breath away.

"Hey." Starsky's voice had gotten gentler. "Everything feels good at that age. It doesn't make it right, what he did."

Hutch exhaled a frustrated breath, cutting past from present. "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago." How many times did he have to say it?

"Hutch. You're a cop. You know the deal. Dollars to donuts, he's still doing it."

"We don't know that."

"We do. You do. How many kids' lives do you think he's screwed up already?"

"Shut up." He didn't want to hear this.

"What if it were Molly? Or Kiko? Wouldn't you want to do something about it? Make him pay?"

_...I want to keep hitting and hitting..._

"We're police officers. We can't just take things into our own hands like that."

The words had been inept to Lisa in the wake of her violent assault. To Starsky, they were like lighting a case of TNT.

"I don't believe you! How can you be so cold. Do you know how long I've been waiting for a chance to meet this prize bastard?"

A sudden suspicion descended on him. "You didn't agree to come here with me just to look for him, did you?"

"Of course not." The answer came too quick.

"You think this is one of your trashy P.I. novels? Detective Starsky tracking down his prey?"

"Yeah, well, I've got him now, haven't I? No thanks to you, partner."

All the time Hutch had been anticipating this trip, eager to show Starsky his hometown and introduce him to his family, Starsky had been... planning? Waiting? How long had Starsky been lying to him?

"You are the most arrogant, stupid sonuvabitch I've ever seen. Who do you think you are?"

Starsky's face went hard. "I'm the guy who's going to give some reconstructive surgery to the face of the bastard who screwed over my partner. You can wait for me in the car."

"No!" He seized a fistful of Starsky's lapel just as he opened his door. "You are _not_ giving him that kind of power over me!" he yelled.

They stared at each other, a moment frozen in uncertainty.

Starsky looked about as surprised as Hutch felt. Eyes never leaving Hutch's face, he closed the door. He covered the hand Hutch still had snarled in his tuxedo jacket with one of his own. "You want to explain that one to me?"

Hutch jerked his hand into the protection of his crossed arms, as if Starsky had hurt him. He looked out his side window. He could feel his heart pounding, so hard that his head ached.

"I wish I'd never told you," he said, finally. His voice shook, and he hated it. Hated all of it. Hated _Starsky_ , which felt so foreign he could barely acknowledge it.

He hated that he wasn't back at the party enjoying the champagne and the white lanterns, dancing with his old friends, getting teased by his cousins.

He hated that Starsky was right, that Howie probably was still doing what he'd done to Hutch years ago. Hated that he didn't even care. Hated that he just wanted to forget it all and yet couldn't.

He hated that Starsky looked at him and saw a victim instead of a partner.

Naively, he'd thought of it as just another secret they could share, like when Starsky had wet the bed at four, and how Hutch used to steal maraschino cherries from his uncle's bar. He'd thought it wouldn't change anything, except to maybe, selfishly, make Starsky love him a little more. He'd never imagined Starsky might use this to humiliate him.

"I wish to _god_ I never had."

There was a long pause before Starsky replied quietly, "I'm glad you did."

"Sure." Hutch laughed, mirthlessly. "Because it's been so much fun."

"Hutch--"

"Or because you like riding revenge for me," Hutch cut him off, anger creeping back in. "Even when I tell you flat out I don't want it."

"I-- I'm sorry. I didn't think..." Starsky trailed off, and he shifted in his seat.  "What did you mean, when you said that, about giving him power?"

_"We had some good times, didn't we?"_

Hutch scrubbed his face with his hands. Broken thoughts churned around in his head. A coherent explanation eluded him, but he needed to try.

"I was just some... some _fling_ for him." The hurt he felt at that dismayed him. How could he still care what Howie thought of him?

"Okay..."

It was easier now to piece together the rest of it. "As far as he knows, it was the same for me. But if you go and make a fuss -- try to, what, defend my honor? -- then he'll _know_. Jesus, he already thinks you're my jealous boyfriend."

He was a little surprised at how mildly Starsky reacted to that bit of irony.

"Don't do that to me." He realized belatedly that he should have made that an ultimatum, not a request. Would have, if his brains weren't all scrambled and upside down right now.

"The bastard deserves _something_."

Hutch sighed explosively. "It's enough that you want to, okay? Really."

"The thought that counts, huh?" Starsky clenched his jaw. "Well, it's not enough for me."

Tired of it all, Hutch held Starsky with a firm glare. "It's going to have to be. Because that's what _I_ want. Got that?"

"But--"

"Don't fight me on this, Starsk." He paused. "Please."

Starsky squeezed his eyes shut, as if to resist the force of Hutch's look. "That really what you want?"

" _Yes_."

Starsky swallowed audibly and turned away. "All right." Hutch could tell that it cost him to say it. "Whatever you want, Hutch."  He breathed a little easier; Starsky didn't break promises to him.

"But if you ever changed your mind--"

"I won't." For once, the hurt on Starsky's face didn't cause him to soften one iota.

Thinking it best to remove temptation, Hutch started the ignition and pulled out of the lot. They were leaving tomorrow morning. Starsky wouldn't have any time to play detective even if he reneged.

They were halfway home when Starsky spoke again. "I just... I feel so... helpless." His voice sounded oddly heartbroken.

Hutch fought a surge of resentment at having to be the consoler. Again, he longed for the happy tinkle of glasses and the sound of a jazz band at dusk. Resignedly, he put out his right hand and patted Starsky's clenched fist where it rested on his thigh.

"Was that how you felt?" Hutch glanced at his partner. He was startled by the soulful look in Starsky's eyes. "I don't want that to be how you felt." Starsky's fist opened, and he took Hutch's hand. Hutch felt the brush of lips across his knuckles.

Hutch cleared his thickening throat, his low burn of anger giving way to confusion. "It wasn't. Honest. I was in control the whole time."

"You Blond Blintz, you still don't get it, do you?" He squeezed Hutch's hand, once, like a signal pulse.

"Huh?" He took his eyes off the road another time, but Starsky was gazing outwards and not at him.

"Don't you ever think about how evil people can be?"

Hutch huffed a startled laugh at the non sequitur. "Sure. That's our job, isn't it?"

"That bastard took you in!" Starsky sighed. "He must've planned it all out. You know how those whackos work. Remember the porno case we helped out with our first year?"

Hutch's humor palled. Who could forget? A dozen kids, promised stardom, money, help tracking down parents or siblings. They'd wound up living in a warehouse, half-starved, making skin flicks and scared half to death every day.

But that was different. "Howie never promised anything he didn't give me."

There was utter silence for a moment.

Glancing over, Hutch saw that Starsky was giving him a piercing look. "What?" He realized Starsky was still holding his hand, and he tugged it back, uncomfortable.

"I bet he knew just what to promise, didn't he?"

Hutch didn't reply. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he followed the slight bends in the residential roads close to his parents' house.

Sure, Howie had heaped on the compliments and praises. He'd made Hutch feel good. But let's face it, didn't Hutch do the same with a woman? Didn't Starsky, or any man? The only difference was, the women were smart enough to know the score. They cooed over the flowers and pretended to be flattered by the silly endearments, and then after they'd thoroughly enjoyed themselves, they jetted off to Honolulu or New York or back to their own apartments and their own content lives.

If he'd been more worldly (less stupid), he would have recognized his and Howie's superficial arrangement for what it was. He would have taken the fancy gifts and enjoyed the hot sex -- things that other boys his age could only dream about -- and felt satisfied on his way out the door.

He saw that even more clearly now, now he'd seen how Howie remembered it. It was a revelation -- like an evidence photo in black and white. It was good for him, on the whole, to finally sort this out. It was.

Starsky couldn't understand. Of course he couldn't. All he saw was some defenseless little boy being taken advantage of. He saw a friend who had gotten hurt, and automatically, he went on the attack.

Hutch could understand that. That was part of what he loved about his friend.

But he knew what he knew. And he also knew that Starsky would never be convinced.

They pulled up to the house, both of them quiet. Hutch killed the engine, and, just like in the parking lot, they sat staring at their own thoughts for a while.

"Kids are dumb," Starsky observed.

Hutch couldn't deny that.

"And lowlifes like that know it."

"He saved our lives," he reminded Starsky.

"How do you figure?"

He purposely injected a note of flippancy into his tone: "He showed me how to make a blow job last."

Starsky made a noise of disgust but couldn't dispute it. Sloan, like Forest and Professor Jennings and a host of others, would never really go away. Howie was small potatoes compared to the rest. He wished he could make Starsky see that.

Hutch drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Starsky..."

But he didn't have the words to follow.

Starsky heaved a heavy sigh. "Whatever you want," he repeated. His eyes were unhappy, but he looked like he meant what he said.

Hutch nodded decisively. He felt like something had finally settled -- albeit imperfectly -- into place. It was enough to work with. "That's right," he agreed.

He exited the car and headed into the house, confident, if of nothing else, that his partner was at his back.

  
END.

**Author's Note:**

> _This one's for ME._
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> [Beginnings And Endings Index](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/34137.html)  
> 
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> * * *
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, you might try these:  
>      [Something Else](http://community.livejournal.com/starskyhutch911/109615.html) (Starsky & Hutch), by kuonji   
>      [Knowing](http://community.livejournal.com/starskyhutch911/227903.html) (Starsky & Hutch), by kuonji   
>      [Dreams](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/2460.html) (Stargate Atlantis), by kuonji   
>      [Phone Call Home](http://community.livejournal.com/sga_flashfic/438933.html) (Stargate Atlantis), by kuonji   
>      [We Can Never Go Back To Before](http://meandthee.shahrazad.net/display.php?storyid=732) (Starsky & Hutch), by Dawnwind  
>      [Separate Agendas](http://community.livejournal.com/starskyhutch911/244925.html) (Starsky & Hutch), by Vedette Ciel  
>      [Girls Like Alice](http://salieri.bonuspoints.net/SH/GirlsLikeAlice.shtml) (Starsky & Hutch), by Salieri


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